


What Sleeping Powder Costs

by HardTack (volatileSoloist)



Series: Moments We Relive [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blackmail, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, M/M, Molestation, Sexual Coercion, Very very unhealthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatileSoloist/pseuds/HardTack
Summary: 2D's drug abuse didn’t stop Murdoc from appreciating him. He was actually quite mad for a while, pissed that 2D had found a way to keep him at bay without even trying. In fact, it was this spite that inspired him to take action.





	What Sleeping Powder Costs

**Author's Note:**

> This is an UNHEALTHY fic, with lots of hurt and no comfort. I do NOT condone Murdoc Niccals' behavior in any way shape or form. Please read the tags before reading this fic to make sure you won't be triggered by any of the content. That being said, if you like this sort of thing, please enjoy!

Murdoc Niccals, on a very reliable basis, did not give two shits about anyone but himself, which was why it took him a long while to properly notice Stuart Pot.

You'd think that hitting him face first with a car would be enough to notice him, but Murdoc was less concerned about Stuart and more concerned with the whole “community service” bit that came as his punishment. There was no way he was going to waste his time taking care of someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a corpse.

No, definitely not. Murdoc had much better things to do. Like putting a band together.

He hadn't been able to nick any of the keyboards in Stuart’s shop during the ram raid, so he actually had to go out and buy the damn things. It took him a while to save up; he could only sacrifice so much blood at once and still be sharp for his little deals with the devil afterwards. It was, at that point, his main source of income, as much of his time was spent either mucking around with his group of similarly-minded friends or taking care of Stuart. What a bloody burden.

He'd been showing off his amazing prowess at pulling off stunts in his most recently-stolen car to some of his chums; Stuart, slumped in the backseat, was along for the ride. They'd ridden past a few women in the carpark, and in an effort to impress them, Murdoc decided to try a three-sixty. Midway through, however, his excitement peaked and he lapsed into one of his spasms. Murdoc jerked the wheel, skidded, and slammed on the breaks as he recovered. The overly abrupt stop sent Stuart crashing through the windshield.

Murdoc groaned and smacked the steering wheel; bloody brilliant. He glanced around to see if there were any witnesses around who might get him even more community service. He, as usual, was barely even thinking about Stuart, so it fell to one of his friends to point out the fact that Stuart, who'd been catatonic for months, was slowly standing up off the ground. And when he did… wow. For the first time, Murdoc Niccals noticed Stuart Pot.

Tall, pretty, blue spiky hair, the pitch black eyes. A shudder went up Murdoc’s back as he watched the tall, lanky young man sway and look around as best he could, trying to get his bearings.

Then Stuart saw Murdoc, and when did, he smiled… well, that was it. His band was going to have a frontman, and Murdoc was going to have a wonderful time ahead of him.

Or at least, that's what he'd thought.

The fact that Stuart—or 2D, as Murdoc now called him—had woken up had come with a host of problems. Namely, medical bills. Having already gotten a brain injury as a child, two more dents in the head didn't do 2D any favors. Now most of Murdoc’s income was being spent on painkillers for his frontman.

But in the end, that didn't really matter. In fact, maybe it helped. Murdoc might be able to spin this so that 2D would think he owed him for paying for his meds. It wasn't too big of a stretch: 2D, for some crazy reason, was under the impression that Murdoc had somehow saved his life. Well, Murdoc wasn't going to disabuse him of that notion.

It wasn't long before Murdoc decided to make his move. He really didn't make much of an effort to dissuade himself from doing it; when Murdoc Niccals wanted something, he damn well got it. And right now, he wanted 2D.

He waited until night fell to approach his bandmate. 2D had turned in early, so Murdoc wasn't too surprised to find him lying still on his bed, all but dead to the world. He crept inside quietly, shutting and locking the door behind him as he walked toward the bed. Its frame creaked a little as he got on, but 2D didn't seem to hear the sound or feel the bed shifting as Murdoc leaned over him.

“Oi, 2D,” he whispered, hands beginning to wander from the sheets to the young man below him, lifting his shirt a little to expose the thin body beneath and smoothing his hands over it.

No reaction. Hang on… was 2D even _breathing_? There was no visible movement at all.

His hand moved a little further up to his chest, palm resting flat to try and feel for a heartbeat. To his relief, he could make out one that was distinct, albeit very slow. So he was, in fact, alive. Then why wasn't he waking up?

Murdoc decided to resort to more drastic measures. He raised one of his hands, and sharply smacked 2D. This, finally, caused a reaction: 2D’s eyelids slowly slid open, and his head lazily angled up toward Murdoc.

“Wha—?”

Murdoc didn't really wait for him to finish, instead moving his hands down to 2D’s crotch to undo the fly of his trousers.

“Mudz, wh… what are you doin’?”

“I'm going to bugger you right, that's what I'm doing.” Murdoc gripped both the waistband of 2D’s pants and his underwear, sliding them down. His anticipation was mounting.

“I… I don't—what?”

Murdoc stared for a moment, a little perplexed by 2D’s astonishing lack of reaction. He ran his hand over his cock, hoping to garner a stronger one. 2D let out a little puff of a breath, but otherwise did nothing.

Now Murdoc was getting irritated. Why wasn't 2D reacting? Where was the fight? He lashed out in anger, knocking some detritus off 2D’s bedside table. When he heard the clattering sound of empty plastic bottles, he finally understood.

Murdoc had recently refilled 2D’s pill prescription, but those were supposed to last him for a few months. Now there was nothing left. Just how fast had he been going through these?

By the time he looked back at 2D, he’d become unresponsive again, eyelids half-shut. Murdoc quite suddenly had a flashback to the last time 2D had been like this, back when he'd been in a coma. How… _corpse-like_ he’d been, and was even now. 2D might be awake again, but for as long as he was taking these pills, he might as well have been the walking dead.

Murdoc was a lot of different shades of messed up, but he had _standards_. There was no fun in this. Mood thoroughly killed, he left 2D half-dressed on the bed and went back to his own room to take care of himself. It was a hurried, frustrated affair, but it would have to do. After all, it seemed like that would be all the action he'd be getting for a while.

———

That didn’t mean Murdoc stopped appreciating 2D. He was actually quite mad for a while, pissed that 2D had found a way to keep him at bay without even trying. In fact, it was this spite that inspired him to take action.

He first got his brilliant idea when the package containing 2Ds’s latest batch of painkillers came in. The bill in the box was—as usual—long, had a bunch of complicated names on it, and the price was nigh astronomical!

 _Honestly, why am I paying for this bastard’s pills?_ It was costing him a fortune, and 2D was losing more and more brain cells for each capsule he took.

Murdoc was reminded of that not much later when 2D wandered into the room, smacking into the side of the doorway on the way in. _Good old Two-Dents. Dumb as a brick._

Once 2D finished rubbing his smarting head, he looked around the room, taking a long moment before focusing on Murdoc.

“Oh, Mudz. Has any parcels come in? The computer told me that my painkillers was comin’ today.”

In the split second he had, Murdoc made what should have been—but wasn't—a morally difficult decision. “Nah,” he lied, even as the package lay on the table in between them.

2D’s head tilted down, angled toward the obvious and opened box. He pointed a long, crooked finger at it and asked, “What’s in there, then?”

“New strings for my bass,” Murdoc said in a casual tone, rising up from his place at the table and grabbing it to close it up again.

“Oh,” said 2D, sounding crestfallen, not even bothering to confirm Murdoc’s story. He simply grabbed a glass of orange juice before he left the room, this time carefully avoiding the edge of the frame.

And so the waiting game began.

After that point, 2D began to ask Murdoc each day if his pills had shown up. About half a week into this little dry spell, he approached Murdoc without greeting. “I don't get it,” he whined, scratching his head. “They shoulda been here by now.”

“I don't control the mail, you dullard,” Murdoc said, barely keeping a snicker out of his voice. “They'll come when they come. Now stop asking me, you're giving me a headache.”

2D’s mouth dropped, and then twisted into a grimace. He suddenly snapped, “You think _you've_ got a headache?”

Both of them stood there for a minute, just staring. Murdoc began to shake a little, feeling a fit coming on. He pushed it down, instead letting out a growl, and he deliberately and slowly clenched his hand into a fist. 2D reflexively winced.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and hurried out of the room.

2D didn’t ask again after that, but his movements through the house became more and more agitated, footsteps sounding from the level above as he paced around in his room. A week into his sobering, he started ransacking different rooms of the house, starting with his own. From there, he moved onto the bathroom cabinets, but Murdoc hadn't been dumb enough to hide the contents of the package there; 2D’s mounting frustration became evident when Murdoc entered one of the bathrooms and found that the mirror inside had been smashed. Later that day, he saw 2D sulking around, his hand clumsily bandaged.

This change in 2D’s behavior was unexpected, to say the least. Murdoc hadn't known 2D before that fateful day in the music shop, so he didn't know if this was what 2D was like underneath the muddled layers of opiates he was normally buried in. He suddenly seemed more prone to snap, and the desperation that was coming off him in waves… despite his initial reaction, Murdoc couldn't say that it wasn't interesting to him.

Then, one day, they reached the breaking point. Murdoc had been reclining on the sofa in his underwear and nursing several bottles of rum when the door to the living room opened with such force that some of the plaster fell from the ceiling. 2D stood in the threshold, a snarl on his face.

“You,” he said, extending a single, accusatory finger. “What've you done with ‘em?”

Murdoc blinked and placed a hand on his chest. “Done with what?” he started innocently, but ended up snickering.

The laugher only seemed to further fuel 2D’s rage. “My pills,” he yelled, “were delivered the day the computer said they was; I called the company and they told me so! I know you took ‘em, where are they?!”

Murdoc took in the sight of an enraged, sober 2D for a minute as a chill went up his spine. This, this is what he'd been waiting for. Here was the bite, the fight!

A grin began to spread on his face. “Okay,” he drawled, “I may have hidden your pills when they showed up—”

“You _bastard!_ ” 2D shouted, starting toward Murdoc with deadly intent, only to flinch back for a moment as Murdoc chucked one of his empty bottles into the wall next to 2D’s head.

“Now listen, Face-Ache, you were gettin’ pretty dependent on those pills. Addiction is such a nasty thing,” he said, punctuating his sentence with a long sip of rum. He watched with glee as 2D began to shake, though whether it was anger or just a symptom of withdrawl, he didn't know.

“I _need_ those pills, Murdoc! You gotta—I mean—what's a guy gotta _do_?” Now he was whining again. But now they were exactly where Murdoc wanted them to be, so it didn't matter.

Murdoc stood up from the sofa and began to approach 2D. “I'll tell you what: you come with me for a little toss in the bed, and I'll give you your pills back. Simple as that.”

At that, 2D’s jaw dropped. “For the love of—are you serious right now?”

“Come now, that's no way to talk to the man who’s got control of your pill supply. Do you want them,” he said, pausing for emphasis, “or not?”

2D all but snarled. “You can't do this to me!”

“Can't I?” Murdoc said calmly, palming himself a little through his boxers. He was close enough now to corner 2D against the wall with his arms.

The frontman looked away, wrinkling his nose at Murdoc’s alcohol breath. “You're disgusting.”

A shudder went up Murdoc’s spine with the insult, and he laughed. “Carry on like that, and I might just blow in my trousers.”

2D wrung his hands in front of him. Was he nervous? “I—I got a bad headache right now. A bloody awful migraine.”

At that, Murdoc laughed. “They say there's nothing better for a headache than a good buggering.”

Gritting his teeth, 2D turned back to look at Murdoc, gaze angry but somewhat dulled by acceptance. “I guess I’ve got no choice, do I?”

Murdoc sneered. “In a fair world, sure. But life isn’t fair, innit?” He reached up with one hand and pinched 2D’s cheek condescendingly, only to have his hand smacked away.

“Fine,” said 2D, glaring. “After you, then.”

What, did he think Murdoc was an idiot? If he led the way, 2D was sure to try and run when his back was turned or, more than likely at this point, attack him. “Oh no, please,” Murdoc said, moving back a step to gesture in the direction of 2D's bedroom. “Ladies first.”

2D gawked at him. "You're going to make me do this in my own sodding bedroom?"

"Or we could go to the Winnebago, if you like?" Murdoc snickered. He personally had no problem with it.

2D grumbled at that, and began to leisurely make his way toward the bedroom. Clearly, 2D was testing his patience. Well, the joke was on him, because Murdoc would win this mind game. He could practically taste victory at this point.

They were almost to his room when 2D suddenly whirled around, swinging his fist at an unprepared Murdoc. Even with his poor vision—and therefore aim—2D had the element of surprise, and he decked Murdoc right in the jaw, sending him reeling. He staggered into the wall, and 2D tried to take advantage of his distraction to slip past him in the narrow hallway; however, Murdoc recovered quickly and pounced, pinning 2D’s hands to the wall and leaning in to ravage his mouth with his own.

2D writhed in place, trying to kick at Murdoc, but he just casually slipped one of his legs in between 2D’s to grind against his crotch in much the same way he slipped his tongue into 2D’s mouth. The hallway was silent, save for the soft sounds their kissing made and the occasional grunt from 2D. Then, 2D surprised him again, this time with a quiet moan.

Murdoc smirked against 2D’s mouth, leaning back just a little to murmur, “There we go,” before biting down on 2D’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

He licked at the wound even as 2D spat a hateful, “Fuck you,” splattering a few drops of blood on Murdoc’s face.

“Oh, I plan to,” Murdoc purred, before grabbing 2D by the hair and proceeding to drag him down the hall. 2D struggled and yelled, but in vain, as Murdoc—despite being a relatively thin man—still had the advantage of strength over him.

They finally reached 2D's room, and he kicked the door open, throwing 2D backwards with enough strength to send him sprawling over the bed. He took the moments 2D spent recovering to shut and lock the door, before stalking over to where 2D lay.

2D made a valiant effort to scramble off the bed, but Murdoc practically jumped on top of him, pinning him against the sheets and grinding his hips against 2D’s as he leaned down to lick his neck. And yet, 2D still struggled.

“Fuck! Get off me, you manky pig-nosed bastard!” he shouted, squirming underneath Murdoc.

Murdoc snickered. “What, did you expect this to be pleasant for you? Don't tell me you pegged me for a _gentle lover_?”

“No, I just din’ expect you to be a sodding animal!”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Oh, bite me, 2D.”

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation before 2D lifted his head up and forward to sink his crooked teeth into Murdoc’s neck. “Oh, fuck yeah,” Murdoc grunted, thrusting hard against 2D. 

With that, 2D let go, a look of surprised disgust on his face. “You piece of—you know what? Not gonna even bother. You'll get off to that.”

Murdoc stilled for a moment, watching with mild panic as 2D turned his head away with a set expression on his face. _Shit._ If 2D was going to give up on the fight, Murdoc was going to throw him out the goddamn window.

Then, he had an idea. With a sharp grin, he reached down to undo 2D’s fly, and said, “Oh, by all means, 2D. While you’re at it, maybe you can _stop struggling_ … would make my life much easier.”

2D bucked up against him with that. Murdoc mentally cheered for himself. _Mind games_. 2D was no match for him at those. Still, regardless of 2D’s writhing, he managed to pull his pants down enough to rub at 2D’s dick through the fabric of his underwear, which—to his delight—was half hard.

2D gasped, and reached his hands above him to grab the sheets of the bed in clenched fists. “Oh, god.”

Murdoc took that as permission to pull down his underwear, exposing 2D’s lower half to the cold air of the room. With that done, he leaned back to push down the waistband of his boxers and pull his cock out, beginning to stroke himself as he appreciated the image of 2D spread out in front of him. “Go on, then. Why don’t you get yourself opened up for me?”

2D propped himself up on his elbows and scowled at Murdoc. “Why don’t you do it yourself, if you’re so damn keen?”

Murdoc laughed outright at that. “You sure you want one of these bad boys up there?” he said, waving his fingers to show off his long, sharp, dirty nails.

The sight of them seemed to immensely put 2D off. He winced, still looking grumpy, but he raised two of his own fingers and put them into his mouth. Murdoc watched, content and stroking lazily, as 2D sucked on his fingers, swirling his tongue around them. A bead of saliva trickled down from his mouth as he did.

Eventually, Murdoc got bored of it; arousing as it was, he suspected 2D was stalling. “Get on with it.”

2D narrowed his eyes and pulled his now wet fingers from his mouth. “Deal with it, ya rotten old bastard.” Nevertheless, he trailed them down to his hole, starting with one and gently pressing in. He bit his lip as he slowly moved it in and out, curling his finger. He slipped the second one in after a while, and he let out a few soft gasps as he worked himself open.

Eventually, his movements slowed to nothing. He glanced at Murdoc, anxious hesitation written all over his face. “You,” he started in faltering tone, “You don’t really want to do this, right?”

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. 2D hurried on, “ _I-I_ don’t want to do this. Th-that makes what you’re doin’ wrong.”

With an exasperated sigh, Murdoc let go of his cock and began to crawl on all fours toward 2D. When he tried to scramble away, Murdoc grabbed his ankle and dragged him back. “You don’t get this, do you, Face-Ache?” He moved on top of 2D, pushing him into the bed to keep him from squirming.

“I don’t _care_ what you want. Murdoc Niccals is always looking out for number one,” he said, and ground his cock against 2D’s. “And I really, _really_ want to do this. Been wanting it for a while, in fact,” he said, a crooked smile on his face.

“What?” 2D said, his breath coming out in panicked gasps but his expression confused. “Then why din’ you just do it when—”

Murdoc didn’t wait for him to finish, instead lining up and pressing and pushing inside, quick and rough.

“Fuck!” 2D yelled at the intrusion, his head falling back against the sheets. Murdoc’s eyes closed as he was surrounded by tight heat, and he let out a breathless, triumphant cackle.

Slowly, his hips began to move, pulling halfway out before pushing forward again. “See? Not so bad.”

2D didn’t bother to respond, eyes shut and face turned to the side as he rocked forward and back with the movements of Murdoc’s thrusts. It wasn’t long before he picked up speed, however. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, as Murdoc began to push harder and faster. With each one, a litany of gasps and curses fell from 2D’s mouth.

“Fuck, oh fuck, oh god,” 2D gasped, his head tossing back and forth in what was either pain or ecstasy. Murdoc chose to interpret it as the latter. He threw his own head back, panting with his tongue out as he hammered into 2D.

He eventually glanced back down at 2D, and saw that his erection had softened to practically nothing. Murdoc might be an inconsiderate man at times, but he had a reputation to keep up: he always made sure his partners left _satisfied_. He grinned to himself with that thought, and adjusted the angle of his hips to try and hit 2D’s prostate.

He knew he’d found it when 2D jolted beneath him with a loud gasp. Murdoc kept pounding forward, and he snickered quietly when 2D finally let out a moan. 2D’s eyes widened with realization a moment later, and he immediately held a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet.

 _Now now, that won’t do_ , Murdoc thought to himself, and he grabbed 2D’s wrist and pinned it to the bed. “No,” 2D ground out before groaning in pleasure. “Agh, fuck, you bastard, I hate—” He couldn’t finish the sentence, unable to keep himself quiet for long. His cries echoed in the room, mingling with Murdoc’s pleasured grunts.

Heat began to coil low in Murdoc’s stomach, and at once, he knew two things: he was getting close, and he wanted 2D to cum before he did. He reached his free hand down between the two of them, and he closed it around 2D’s cock, beginning to stroke it quickly in time with his thrusts. 2D cursed, but couldn’t prevent himself from pushing his hips up into the tight warmth of Murdoc’s hand.

It wasn’t long before it all came to a head. 2D seized up beneath him, and let out a long, high wail as he came, his cum slicking up both Murdoc’s hand and their stomachs. Murdoc, however, continued to thrust forward, holding down a writhing, overstimulated 2D as he chased his pleasure. Then, his hips stuttered, and he grunted, pushing deeper into 2D as he finally released.

Murdoc let out a sigh, and collapsed on top of 2D, both of their chests heaving as they came down from their orgasms.

There was silence for a few minutes, before 2D let out a quiet, “I _hate_ you.”

“Oh yeah?” Murdoc said, a smile on his face. “Why’s that?”

“Because you could’ve just done this when I was on my painkillers. If you did, I wouldn’t have been able to fight back. I also wouldn't have to remember this, you complete bastard.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Oh, come now, 2D, we both know that by tomorrow, you won’t remember this anyway.”

“Yeah,” 2D said bitterly, “Until the next time you sober me up just so you can get off. Speaking of which,” he bit out, “I want. My bloody pills. _Right_ damn now.”

Murdoc heaved himself up off of 2D with a muttered, “Way to kill the afterglow.” 2D responded by flipping Murdoc off with both hands.

It didn’t take too long for Murdoc to find the bottles and bring them back to 2D, who barely noticed him come in, as he’d covered his eyes with his arm.

“Now,” said Murdoc, trying not to sound too concerned. “try not to kill yourself with these, you understand?”

“Whatever,” 2D grumbled, frantically grabbing the bottles out of Murdoc’s hands and cracking them open to grab a small handful of pills from each, swallowing them dry.

After going so long without them, the effects of the pills hit 2D like a sack of bricks, and his eyes fell closed no more than a few minutes after taking them. His breathing slowed, and Murdoc stared at his sleeping form for a bit before shaking his head and leaving the room.

Maybe it would be better if 2D forgot about this, for now. But Murdoc would remember this, with pleasure, for a long time.


End file.
